


pieces of you in the back of my mind

by meggiewrites



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Boys In Love, Confusion, FC Bayern München, Hospitals, M/M, Minor Injuries, Remix of a Drabble, Tags Are Hard, Temporary Amnesia, feelings are hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-17 23:43:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14200203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meggiewrites/pseuds/meggiewrites
Summary: After a heavy blow to the head, Manuel wakes up in the hospital. It's September 26, 2009 and Schalke faced Dortmund in the Revierderby. Only, as the doctor informs him, it actually isn't.It's 2018, and suddenly, the fact that Manuel apparently now plays for Bayern Munich becomes merely a minor problem when he barely recognizes the man sitting by his bedside.





	pieces of you in the back of my mind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eafay70](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eafay70/gifts).



> First of all, a big sorry to everyone that I haven't answered any comments nor posted something new in quite a while! Real life is crazy right now and not in a good way, so apart from the casual reblogging of a few tumblr posts, I really didn't have the time or energy for fandom life. 
> 
> Then, yesterday evening I caught the sudden urge to write and what came out of it was the continuation/expansion of a drabble the lovely Eafay has written for me on tumblr a while ago – I had been really inspired by it!
> 
> I stole a few (mostly the first few) sentences of you and went in the same direction as you did, but put a bit of my own twist on it, adding a bit of drama and very light angst. I hope you (and everyone else who might read this) enjoy it!
> 
> Once more, a big thank you to my beta Khalela, I'm so lucky to have you look at my stuff which a much more critical I than myself ♡

The lights were too bright; that was the first thing Manuel noticed when he opened his eyes. He squinted, groaning when suddenly a soaring pain shot through him. “Ow …”

“That’s to be expected after colliding with a BVB player. Though you definitely got the worse share.” Only then Manuel looked up to the doctor that was standing by his bedside. He was middle-aged, his smile friendly. “Where does it hurt?”

“Uh…mostly my head, but honestly everywhere,” Manuel sighed. “Did we win the Revierderby, at least?”

The doctor shot him a look, furrowing his brow. “Herr Neuer, do you know today’s date?”

“September 26, 2009…,” Manuel’s voice faltered as the doctor’s expression grew more and more worried. “The 27th, maybe?”

The doctor pushed up his glasses. “Herr Neuer… the year isn’t 2009. It’s 2018.”

Manuel froze. Or well, he would have, if his beaten up body had allowed him to move at all. “What?!” he practically screamed – had he really lost nine years of his memory?  “What happened??”

“Another player banged his shoulder against your head; you might be experiencing whiplash or you could be concussed. But don’t worry, your amnesia is likely only temporary – it’s a common side effect after crashes like this one. Are you experiencing any nausea?”

Manuel somberly shook his head, his mind still racing. 2018. He was definitely still in Germany, considering that the doctor seemed to be German. It was silly to think of it, but as Manuel cast a look at the bright red of the undershirt he was still wearing, he couldn’t help himself, an uncomfortable certainty growing in his stomach.

“Did I leave Schalke?”

The doctor’s dry smile told him everything he needed to know. “You did,” he confirmed. “I’m a Werderaner who married into a Schalker family, so I can tell you that your move was… not well received.”

That was of course, the final nail in the coffin. “I moved to… B-Bay…don’t make me say it.” The doctor nodded. “I joined those knuckleheads?!” He sounded more exasperated than he’d planned to.

“Hey now, that’s not very nice!” A lanky man stepped into view. He must have been sitting in the chair behind the doctor’s back. His smile was crooked but unsettlingly fond as he came to a halt next to Manuel’s bedside.

It took a few moments for Manuel to recognize him. “Müller, right? From the youth teams?”

“Among other things, yes. Nowadays you call me ‘Thomas,’ or ‘babe,’ or ‘stud,’ or even ‘Thommy’ once in a blue moon.”

Even with the clearly jesting and colloquial tone, Manuel couldn’t help but frown at the unhappy look on Müller’s – Thomas’ face. Manuel didn’t really know him, but somewhere deep down there was something that knew that he didn’t like seeing Thomas this way. “I’m sorry. I just don’t remember,” he said, fiddling with the blanket draped over his lower body.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get your memory back in no time,” the doctor reassured them. “Apart from your amnesia and some general pains, you seem to be alright. Of course, we need to do some final checks, but after that. Herr Müller, will you be able to take him back? He should have someone help him around in his current state, and as a long-term teammate, you are perfectly qualified for that job.”

“Of course,” Müller said, offering Manuel a hand as he helped him up. It was warm, the palm surprisingly soft; in a strange way, it was reassuring.

The tests went over quickly, and he felt his lips automatically spread in a smile when he found Müller leaning against the wall, in front of the doctor’s office, waiting for him. Manuel usually wasn’t that good at getting to know new people, always felt a bit awkward in his skin, but with the lanky forward, he immediately felt comfortable.

The doctor closed the door behind him, turning to Manuel. “Well, you’re cleared. I will send the report to the team doctor – please give him updates on the status of your memory loss every evening, and if nothing has started to come back to you in about a week, you should definitely come in for another round of check-ups. And now”, he turned to Müller, an excited spark in his eyes, “I’m afraid I didn’t catch the final result of the match - did you beat the bees?”

Müller grinned. “But of course! Sven maintained Manu’s clean sheet, and I opened the scoring. We won 3-0.”

“Congrats,” Manuel said laconically, finding himself unable to stop himself from smiling at Müller when the younger one rolled his eyes at him.

The car he led him to was black, big and nondescript, though the inside smelled pleasantly of fresh air and expensive leather.

They were in Munich, Manuel realized quickly when he looked out of the window. He’d been there before, of course, with Schalke and with his parents a few times, when he’d been younger. But now the streets carried a familiarity that felt like it belonged to someone else.

Could he be the Manuel everyone expected him to be? Was he still the same person he’d been nine years ago?

The drive took quite a while, but the car finally came to a halt in front of a medium sized but expensive looking house in a quiet little village by a lake. Tegernsee, his brain added; he’d visited with his parents before. He’d always had a soft spot for it, so that made sense.

“Well here we are!” Müller said with a lopsided smile that didn’t reach his eyes. After a bit of searching, Manuel found the keys in what he’d been told was his bag. The room the door opened to was beautiful; open and warm, soft neutral colors greeting him in the most welcoming way.

Even if he didn’t remember, he could sense that this was his home.

He turned around to find Müller hovering awkwardly in the door, as if he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Do you want to stay for dinner?” Manuel asked, and when he saw the smile that lit up the forward’s eyes, he knew it’d been the right thing to say.

When he opened the fridge he found half a gratin dish with cold lasagna, and to his surprise, he managed to find his way around the kitchen fairly easily; surprisingly, so did Müller, helping him with setting the table, carrying glasses, cutlery and napkins into the living room.

“You’re here quite a lot, huh?”

Müller shrugged, trying to play it off, even if by the way he was pushing his food around on his plate, Manuel could tell this whole thing was affecting him more than he dared to admit.

“We’re close.”

Right, then. Manuel supposed he really should start calling him Thomas.

The rest of the meal passed in quite a pleasant manner – the younger man (though not as young anymore, he must already be in his late twenties too; Manuel was still baffled at the idea of being over thirty, himself) was a laugh to be around and made Manuel laugh several times with his tales of their life at Bayern.

He could see why they were friends, even after a few hours spent with him, he had already grown quite fond of the lanky forward with the never-resting tongue. And somehow, playing for FC Hollywood suddenly didn’t leave a bile taste in his mouth anymore.

It was already dark outside when they’d finally cleaned everything up. On his way over to the couch, ready to rest his still-aching bones – luckily, the prescribed painkillers had almost eliminated the soaring pain in his head – Manuel stopped short next to a little chest of drawers perched in the hallway.

There was a pair of rings laying on it in a small pastel-colored bowl. They were identical simple platinum bands, though there was a tiny diamond encrusted on each of them.

He jumped a bit when someone cleared his throat next to his ear.

Thomas reached down, quickly slipping both rings into his pocket.

“Ah, yes. Those are mine. I had forgotten I’d put them here.”

Manuel raised an eyebrow at him, but he didn’t offer any further explanation, instead turning back around.

“Can I stay for the night? I’m honestly too tired to drive.” Thomas’ sentence trailed off in an awkward way, making Manuel temporarily forget about the … pair of engagement – wedding? – rings that Thomas seemed to be randomly carrying around.

Manuel’s chuckle was just as graceless. “Sure. Um. I would show you to the guest bedroom, but I’m pretty sure you know better than me where it is.”

Thomas smiled that crooked smile of his that looked way too attractive to be legal. “I’m sure. Do you think you can find your way to the bedroom?”

It turned out that he could. It was big but cozy nevertheless, extensive windows overlooking the lake. Somehow, it also was messier than he’d expected it to be. Or well, half of it was.

Not for the first time Manuel wondered if there was someone, someone who usually slept in this bed with him, someone to hold in his arms, someone to hold him.

But Thomas would have told him, right?

He picked up the clothes that had been strewed all over right half of the floor, folding them, putting them on a chair he found sitting in a corner. They were all men’s clothes, so maybe he was wrong. Maybe everything was as it always used to be, and he was still alone.

Still, when he slipped under the soft covers, he felt like there was something missing.

The next morning came quickly. Manuel hadn’t slept well; but he supposed it made sense. His body was used to sleeping in this bed, this house after all, but his mind had a hard time recalling anything, getting used to it.

He made a face when that thought lead to the conclusion that his memory still hadn’t come back. Luckily, any resting pain had by now subsided.

With a groan, he sat up, stretching his arms over his head. He scratched his chin, slightly dusted with rough stubble. Upon getting out of bed after a few minutes he’d spent with admiring the view outside of his windows, he picked up one of the shirts he’d folded the day before, pulling it over his head.

He stopped short when it only came down to his belly button, strangely tight around his chest.

‘Whoever washes my clothes needs to get a talking to,’ he thought, yawning once more before starting to make his way downstairs.

There was noise coming from the kitchen. Thomas was standing by the stove, roasting bacon in a pan. When he turned around, his smile was warm.

“Hey there sleepyhead. Guess you really needed that, huh?” He flipped over a piece of bacon. “I mean, you’re not exactly a morning person on a good day, but noon is excessive even for you.”

Manuel blinked.

There was something so _familiar_ about the sight of Thomas standing in his kitchen in his pyjamas, his voice a bit rougher than usual, his curls a mess, his grin wide, rousing a longing that knotted itself so deeply in his insides that it was a physical ache in his stomach.

He looked down at the too-small shirt he was wearing, recalling the rings he’d found in the hallway the day before.

“You. We…”

Thomas furrowed his brows, his smile gone as suddenly as it had appeared, staring at the kitchen floor with emotionless eyes.

His chuckle was bitter.

“I guess it was only a matter of time until you figured it out. You’re a lot smarter than people give you credit for, my love.”

Manuel still only stared at him, unable to form any words. Suddenly, he recalled how Thomas had introduced himself in the doctor’s office. ‘You usually call me Thomas,’ he’d said, ‘or Thommy, or stud, or _babe._ ’

He hadn’t been joking.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I don’t remember.” Manuel took a shaky breath, fiddling with the hem of what must be Thomas’ – his lover’s – shirt. “I’m sorry I forgot you.”

Thomas run a hand over his face. His sigh was devoid of any hope, his smile so small it was almost unrecognizable.

“It’s not like it’s your fault. I should have told you from the start, but I didn’t want to overwhelm you. Your journey getting to this point hasn’t been the easiest and…” His sentence trailed off as he stepped up to Manuel, framing his face with slender hands, stroking over his cheekbones.

The caresses were comforting, and so loving that they took Manuel’s breath away. It was hard to grasp that this loud, boisterous man could be so incredibly gentle. His eyes fluttered shut and he had to swallow a couple tears. He didn’t want to cry in front of Thomas, even if it was unlikely that it would be the first time the younger one would see him cry.

“The rings?” he managed to utter, lifting his head, eyes locking with Thomas’. They were mismatched, he noticed, one blue, the other more green-ish with a freckle of hazel.

“Our engagement rings. We leave them at home on matchdays, so you’ll have to take my word for it. I proposed six months ago,” he added with a smile. “I asked you while I was high on adrenaline and drunk on beer when we won the last Meisterschaft. I was surprised when you actually said yes, considering how intoxicated I was. I certainly wasn’t the prettiest sight.”

Manuel let his eyes roam over his face, taking in the lines on his forehead, the crinkles by his eyes and the curve of his jaw. Astonished at how he knew those features so well, considering that technically, he didn’t remember knowing this man, never mind remember loving him. But then he took in Thomas’ smitten expression and his own body’s reaction to Thomas’ touch, how Manuel wanted to protect him, wipe that bitter smile off his face and replace it with a genuine one; he how he wanted Thomas’ hands to never leave his body.

He found himself nodding, a smile slowly spreading on his face, extending his hand so that Thomas could slip the ring on his finger.

“It strikes me as perfectly believable.”

And when he woke up the next morning with Thomas’ arms wrapped around him, warm breath hitting the exposed skin of his shoulder; it was no miracle that in that moment, he remembered everything.

 

**Author's Note:**

>   * As always please don't hold me accountable for any false portrayal of medical conditions/recovery 
>   * Again thanks to Eafay for allowing me to write this! Consider this a thank you for all the drabbles and all the lovely comments you have written me ♡
>   * Title from _Talk_ , a really lovely song by Kodaline
>   * You can find the original drabble [here](https://eafay70.tumblr.com/post/171796014081/oh-man-i-could-really-need-something-to-motivate)! 
>   * (Manu's lasagna is becoming a bit of a running gag isn't it ~~so is him wearing Thomas' clothes~~ )
>   * I write FICTION about real people. None of this is intended to harm them or their reputation in any way
> 

> 
> Please leave kudos and maybe a comment if you liked it! | [tumblr](http://manuelmueller.tumblr.com/)


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